Chapter Nineteen

 

After running out of the diner like some sort of demented drama queen, I paused on the sidewalk and realized I had no place to run.

Couldn’t go back to the motel, and besides, who’d want to?

Outside of Pete and the bar, I didn’t know anyone else in town. And that meant I’d left the table and Wyst in order to escape, to get away from the idea of the smarmy Dr. Jyrl and his need to…his need to…

Jaysus I couldn’t even complete the thought, it was so awful.

But the medical chief didn’t make a move without it being an order. Which led me to connect the dots on just who had given the directive to not only harvest human ovaries but to demand an Earth-side operating facility to boot. And I was sure as shit it was that goddamn Commander Stege, the leader and bat-shit crazy sonuvabitch who’d dreamt up this whole scheme!

A sanctimonious douche-bag of a man who held the very top slot on my shit list.

Just as I came to that conclusion, Wyst pushed the suitcase I’d left behind out the diner’s door and came to stand beside me. I looked up at him to see his face full of concern.

“Are you all right, mica jain?”

I nodded and reached for his hand, craving a bit of the tranquility his touch always seemed to provide. As the syrupy feel of it spread and appeased my jangled nerves, I finally found my voice. “Yeah, I’m fine, big guy.”

His eyes searched mine like he was looking for a lie but finding none (which I knew he wouldn’t because I’d mostly told him the truth), he tugged me closer. “Shall we go cleanse our clothing then and put this morning behind us?”

I liked his phrasing because it whittled it all down into more manageable chunks. We’d just put our overly emotional and crap-blasted early hours, like, behind us and get on with what we were supposed to do until we could meet up with Rykhan and Leah. Squeezing his fingers, I tried on a small grin. “Let’s hit it, babe. But is it okay if we talk some this shit through as we do?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with his own small smile and a returning squeeze of his fingers as he began walking. “What was it about Dr. Jyrl’s plan that causes you such fear? The warriors denied him entry and Arbrynt is ensuring the doctor and his team will have no access to the house or property.”

“Remember how I used to take Leah food when she was sequestered onboard the Searcher? That Jerry dude seemed to make a point of dropping in when I was there or would catch me just as I was coming or going. Each and every goddamn time I saw him, the man would make his pitch for my eggs.” Anger flared white-hot at the recollection and I had to push it down just to continue speaking. “I told him no again and again but it was like our previous conversations didn’t stick in his head. As if he didn’t respect the ‘no’ I’d given him the first time and every time thereafter. But it was his speeches about how much the fates of Galaxia and Nutrol depended on my donated ovum that really set my ass on fire.”

“As it would any sentient being,” Wyst growled. “I too have had dealings with him in the past and rather than providing me with a sense of well-being as a person in the healing arts should, I left his presence more unsettled than when I arrived.”

“But he’s not the decision-maker for this shit, is he? I mean, in order to try and set up something at the Troon North house, he’d need some kind of order or command, right?”

When Wyst didn’t answer right away, I glanced up and found him frowning in thought. “No, he would not. So he must have been given a directive from the Quest Committee.”

“You mean from the Grand Pooh-bah of Dickness, Stege. He’s the shit-for-brains running the show, correct?”

Wyst came to a full stop and stared at me in shock. “You know of Commander Stege?”

“Yep. Leah and I had a video-chat with that supercilious pile of steaming shit a few weeks ago and, let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.” A shiver of revulsion involuntarily ran through me at the memory. “How you guys can take orders from such a demeaning dirt-bag boggles the mind.”

“I do not interact with him. He communicates with Bronsyn who gives us our orders.” Wyst began to walk again although at a much slower pace. “What was your meeting about?”

“It started out okay, I guess. A little discussion about why two lowly human females were helping you guys find your brides, et cetera. But it didn’t take long before he showed his true colors, screaming about Leah and I were ‘unsuitable’ to even lick a Protector’s boots, much less help in their search.” Actually Stege had said a helluva lot more than I told Wyst, citing Leah wasn’t woman enough to hold onto her one and only boyfriend and calling me a whore to my face due to the myriad of sexual activity I’d engaged in. But I wasn’t gonna tell Wyst that particular embarrassing piece of info. “Then he told us if we wanted to continue to be with the team, we had to shit or get off the pot.”

Again Wyst pulled me to a stop, but this time his face held a look of horror. “He wanted to watch you and Rykhan’s mate…defecate?”

Damn! I’d forgotten to watch my speech again and Wyst had taken my words at face value. “No, no,” I hurried to explain, yanking on his fingers to get him moving again. “Nothing like that. He told us we had to have two more warriors find their mates over the next three weeks or he would ensure we wouldn’t be allowed near any of you again. And I quote, ‘wahrom or not’.”

Wyst’s face went a funny shade of pale at my words. Though he tried, really tried to respond. “Even, uhm, Co-Commander Stege wo-wouldn’t da-dare to-to—”

I cut in before he could complete his stuttered sentence. “Oh he dared, all right. But Leah was awesome and chewed his ass up, but good. Told him you guys needed us more than we needed you. Managed to shock him by flashing her wahrom at the screen and gave him the same brand of smartass he spouted. Bronsyn was very impressed at the way we held our own and told us so when we left.”

“Bronsyn was there?” Shocked hazel eyes met my own, but I managed to keep him moving. His color was just edging on normal and I wasn’t somebody who wanted to change it again.

Which meant I nodded and bit back my smile of triumph at both the recollection and in preventing Wyst from dragging me to another stop. At the rate we were going, our clothes wouldn’t be done before the start of my shift! “Yep. Heard every word and even gave us hugs afterward.”

When he didn’t say anything further, I glanced up to see him staring off into the distance as if he was processing what I’d told him.

I only hoped it helped him understand my earlier need to escape.

 

*.*.*.*.*

Wyst’s mind whirled with all his pixie told him after rushing away to find an explanation when she’d related Dr. Jyrl’s antics. He’d known nothing of what she’d experienced in most of her time in the house. Mainly because he’d avoided her as much as possible.

Opening the heavy glass door of the laundering facility, Wyst wondered why his leader never told him or the other warriors in their group of the females meeting with Stege. The pixie had named it as ‘not pretty’ in her retelling, but never really got into the specifics of what was said. And the fact Bronsyn never related the incident made him think there was a lot more to it than she’d let on.

Should he delve into it, gaining answers to questions he’d yet to formulate or simply leave it alone?

By the time he came out of his head and back to the matter at hand, the lively sprite was sorting through the mish-mash of fabric from their room, seemingly throwing their clothes and bedding into piles he didn’t understand. “What are we doing?”

“Separating the colors,” she said, from a bent over position. One that prevented him from seeing her eyes, her hands a flurry of movement as she tossed a few pieces of material into the different mounds on the floor. “Whites are here. Medium colors, there. And darks are behind me.” Tossing her hair out of her eyes, she didn’t change position but still managed to point her face to his. “You could help, you know, instead of just standing there with your tongue in your mouth.”

He had no clue what she meant, much less her intent, but was willing to pitch in to do what she called ‘separating’. Grabbing a handful of cloth in each hand, he looked from them to the different stacks she’d created and still couldn’t see the pattern she’d detailed. So he just stood there watching as she threw the different scraps into the different heaps.

“Jaysus! Didn’t you have to wash your shit on Nutrol?”

“Yes, but we have robotics for that.”

She straightened to her diminutive but full height and gave him a glare as she back-handed an errant blonde lock from her eyes. “Lucky. Fucking. You.”

He blinked at the venom in her voice and wondered if it was solely because of his lack of help in their current chore or if it she’d somehow surmised he’d never performed such a menial task before. Not even as a recruit at the academy.

But one of the things he liked most about her was how her thinking and emotions could be redirected. For a short time, anyway. “You said you and Rykhan’s mate agreed to three mating-pairs in three weeks? There are six warriors and one leader planet-side.”

Carrying a large armful of nothing but whites, she teetered to one of the large washers, shoving everything inside before she slammed the small, circular door closed. “So?”

Opening up a couple of slots in the panel that fronted the unit, she poured in whatever she’d purchased from the quiet woman manning a counter in the far corner of the business, before feeding the machine some silver coins. All the while ignoring him.

“Who were they? The three you and your friend promised to find mates for in such a short amount of time?”

“Don’t worry, big guy. Everybody knows you want as much pussy as you can get before blowing this ‘burg the rest of us consider a planet.” Both her tone and her walk as she passed by was one of scorn, of derision even if her words held a measure of reassurance. “We all know you refuse to get stuck with just one Earth-girl until you abso-fucking-lutely need to. Believe me.”

Why did her summation of his edict sound so…hateful and selfish? He wasn’t at fault and had been very upfront about his wants and desires from the beginning. Didn’t humans value the truth as much as he and his warrior-brothers did? And his confusion made the next words out of his mouth sound tense as well as suspicious. “Who were they, pixie? Those brothers who you chose to secure mates for within Stege’s timeline?”

“Since you couldn’t be considered and Rykhan was our first,” she started, grabbing the next stack of clothing and stumbling to yet another unit. “We only had Tyshar, Arbrynt, Gyard and Bronsyn to choose from. My money was on Ty and Bronsie.”

He did not like this. Did not like this at fracking all, even though he understood no more than a few words of her declaration. He was getting better at English and would soon master the slang and colloquialisms his feminine, quasi-warrior-companion used. But there were still some things he didn’t understand. “What does pussy mean?”

He called out his question across the aisle between where he leaned against some of the shorter, squat equipment and the large machines she’d chosen to use. A space not too far away, but as soon as he uttered his question she raced to his side with an expression that was a combination of horror and trepidation as her eyes darted to the other customers. “Shh, Wyst. For god’s sake!”

Obviously he’d performed another faux pas, but that had been a daily occurrence since they’d landed, so he wasn’t overly concerned. Everything was ‘cool’ as his Pam-ah-lah was wont to say, if no one noticed and reacted to him.

As for Wyst, he didn’t give a fracking rat’s bottom. That was if he’d gotten the idea of one of his pixie’s phrases right to indicate he didn’t care.

She rushed to a stop beside him, gripping onto his canted elbows, one of the arms he held against his chest as he leaned back against the one of the low-lying washers before she rose up onto her toes. “Americans don’t, like, use that word outside the bedroom. At least not if they want to be considered as upstanding folk, anyway.”

Tilting his chin down in what he knew was an imperial gesture, he stabbed her with his gaze. “And exactly what word is that, little one?”

Shooting her eyes around the place of cloth-cleansing, she leaned against him and whispered, “Pussy.”

The tone and manner in which she uttered the word caused his eyebrows to raise without his permission. “And this is socially unacceptable how?”

“Because it’s slang for what a woman has between her legs and is, like, a slur if a guy says it to another male. Geesh! What’s on those fucking sleep tapes anyway? Didn’t you learn anything about my world before you landed?”

Keeping his eyes on hers, Wyst thought through what she’d explained. “A pussy refers to the triangle portion of the plump, fragrant flesh of a female’s core, correct?”

With unblinking eyes, his pixie nodded.

“Which I’m guessing is because of the fur humans grow to cover their sex organs during puberty. Yet your mons are bare, mica jain. Why is that?”

She dropped her eyes to the floor and he watched as color suffused her cheeks as the whole of her body stiffened. There was a noise coming from her mouth, but even with his enhanced hearing, he couldn’t catch her words. “Say again?”

“It’s because I shave. You know, like, down there.”

He couldn’t bear the ashamed and embarrassed feelings rolling off her in waves, so Wyst decided to go a different direction. “And for a human male to call another a ‘pussy’ is an insult?”

“Without a doubt,” she admitted, her gaze slowly traversing up his body in order to connect with his again. “A slam of the worst sort.”

After more than a few seconds of their eyes engaging in a way that had his tailpor lengthening, Wyst gave into his curiosity. “Why are you embarrassed to explain this?”

She grabbed the top layer of the last stack of clothing and headed to what she called a ‘washer’. “Because this is a conversation that needs to be done in private.”

She stopped mid-movement and glared at him over her shoulder. “Wait. How did you know I was embarrassed?”

That was a reasonable question, but Wyst didn’t have a ready answer. At least not one he liked. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he hated what his mind told him was the truth.

He could feel his pixie’s emotions.

“Oh no you can’t,” she yelled, as a wave of disbelief and frustration washed over him. “Uh-uh, there is no way in hell you and I are that connected! Being able to hear each other’s thoughts when we don’t shield them is one thing. But to tap into my emotions? Gonna have to call bullshit on that, dude.”

The fact he hadn’t sent her a direct thought, but she’d easily received, was scary enough. But to feel each other’s private feelings was going to really, as his pixie would say, suck. “Can you feel mine?”

She stared at him before swiftly turning back to her chore. But he heard her thoughts and was broadsided by the irritation she tried hard not to let him see. Fuck you, Wyst.

This was bad.

This was very, very bad.

Inhaling deeply, Wyst leaned against the unit next to her as she added detergent and a rinse agent to the machine before adding enough coins to make it engage. “I do not want the connection we share either, leca purvya. It is too intrusive and does not allow either of us any level of privacy. But this is not of my doing. I am, like you, appalled and upset by the abilities we share.”

Closing the lid of the machine with a thud, she turned towards him. “So you didn’t ask for this?”

“Gyed, no!” How could she even think that? “The Mycalyte Trivajni we share is the stuff of legends, only spoken of by the priestesses and others who dedicate their lives to religious service on Galaxia and Nutrol. And until I actually heard your thoughts when you and Rykhan’s mate were battling for escape, I didn’t believe a link like ours was even possible.”

“Well, I just wanna go on record as saying this freaking stinks!”

He knew she did because he could hear the cacophony of her mind, the whirlwind of her emotions. And he unequivocally agreed. “If it was in my power to change it, to remove whatever it is that binds us, I would, mica pixie.”

“How do we handle it then? I mean, do we stay as far away from one another as possible or shield both our thoughts and emotions?” She stood before him, blue eyes questioning, searching his as she, like him, struggled to find an answer. “What do we do, babe?”

“I don’t know,” he replied without thinking. “But I feel the need to move. To run as far and as fast as I can.”

Her face lifted enough so he could view her eyes, the ones who were so close to his but still so far away.

“To escape our connection? Didn’t we kind of do that when I was on the Searcher? From what Bronsyn said, your starship is, like, tucked in a crater on the far side of the moon, yet you still heard what was churning in my brain. And now you can hear my heart-stuff? Freaking eww, dude.”

He hated she’d named, and therefore claimed, whatever it was between them and had been for some time. “No. I don’t have any need to test the distance of our link.”

But, his hearts thudded with the need to get out, to stretch his muscles and just fracking well move as he tried to find a solution to all the current problems they faced. He was a male of action and the enforced inactivity of the last few days chaffed on his last nerve. But she didn’t need to know that, since she’d shown no interest in trying to discover the man behind the body he knew she desired.

“Yes, but we were operating in extreme circumstances. Perhaps when we are both calm and rested, when our bodies and minds are not under duress, our connection will not be as strong.” He caught her encouraging nod out of the corner of his eye. “How long will it take for our clothes and linens to be ready?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m thinking a couple of hours.”

“Then I will stay away for one point five of Earth’s hours and we will test our Trivajni. Will you agree to this?” He held his breath as he waited more than a few seconds for her reply, hoping she couldn’t read his need to run away, to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Yeah. I will, big guy. But I gotta say, this is some really funky-assed shit.” Her eyes found his and created another ripple in what was flowing between them.

Thinking it was the appropriate moment to enact a gesture he’d always wanted to try, Wyst held up his hand, palm toward his beautiful traveling companion. And she didn’t leave him hanging for any longer than it took to breathe as she slapped her hand to his. “I will see you soon, mica azjani. Call out if you need me.”

“Yeah, you will. I just, like, hope I don’t goddamn hear or feel you while you’re gone.” Her smile was rueful as if she wanted to take the sting out of her words, but he knew what she meant.

“As do I, little one.”